


What Changes these Choices Bring

by vega_voices



Series: What Changes These Choices Bring [1]
Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices





	1. Chapter 1

_**Fic: In Plain Sight - What Changes these Choices Bring**_  
 **Mini-Series:** What Changes these Choices Bring  
 **Episode One:** Bananas and Saltine Crackers  
 **Author:** [](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/profile)[**vegawriters**](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** In Plain Sight  
 **Pairing:** Mary/Marshall  
 **Rating:** Teen  
 **Timeframe:** 3rd Season  
 **A/N of Doom:** Friday night, I posted a general “I love you” post to the [](http://mary-marshall.livejournal.com/profile)[**mary_marshall**](http://mary-marshall.livejournal.com/) community and asked for prompts. The ones that rolled in were crazy awesome and so here we go. In this one, prompts from [](http://thy3tuth-iswon.livejournal.com/profile)[**thy3tuth_iswon**](http://thy3tuth-iswon.livejournal.com/) , [](http://helovesmexx.livejournal.com/profile)[**helovesmexx**](http://helovesmexx.livejournal.com/) , [](http://bend-dontbreak.livejournal.com/profile)[**bend_dontbreak**](http://bend-dontbreak.livejournal.com/) , [](http://siapom.livejournal.com/profile)[**siapom**](http://siapom.livejournal.com/) , [](http://bithablu.livejournal.com/profile)[**bithablu**](http://bithablu.livejournal.com/) , and [](http://tilley-girl.livejournal.com/profile)[**tilley_girl**](http://tilley-girl.livejournal.com/) inspired the first of a little mini-series that includes: drunk sex that leads to Mary getting pregnant and needing to make a decision, Mary being sick around the time of her period, and Raph running into them while Mary is pregnant. Included in this miniseries we see: Mary's reaction to Marshall's jammies, baby, ring, honest, puppy, and Klingon, an honest explanation as to why Mary feels comfortable watching porn with Marshall, and Marshall and Mary on the shooting range. Hey, I told you it was a mini-series! :) And it has no bearing on the other story I’ve been working on where Mary and Marshall get nekkid a lot.  
 **Disclaimer:** As evidenced by how little I’ve managed to get done this weekend: they own me.

It was hot and Mary Shannon was exhausted. She’d been exhausted for days, but today felt worse. From start to finish, the prisoner transport had been bungled: the file had been sent to the wrong office, Stan (through no real fault of his own) had given them the wrong face sheet, the prison wasn’t ready, the prisoner was sick and therefore could only handle four hours of travel before he started throwing up, the two sets of extra hands promised for the ride proved to be a newbie with too much care for protocol, and the motel they were forced to utilize halfway through their planned route was down to two rooms. Codes of conduct did not allow for prisoners to share a room with a member of a different gender. They also did not allow for two inspectors of different gender to share a room. With one woman and three men, one of whom was so green that the pages of the manual actually stuck to him, it made for a migraine the size of Texas for Mary.

“Cooper,” she kept her hand on her gun while the young marshal hauled the prisoner out of the back seat of the car, “you’re staying with him.”

“But, the motel only has two rooms available, we can’t stay. Protocol –“

“Can fuck me.” Marching back to the back of the truck, Mary hauled her duffel bag from the pile of supplies. “The health of the prisoner demands we stop and I for one don’t want the car smelling like vomit the rest of the way to Chaco. So we’re stopping and you’re staying with him and Marshall and I can act like adults and share a room.” Her only consolation in this whole mess was that she knew Marshall was doing his best to not crack up at the notion of their being “Adult” while sharing a room. If she didn’t have a headache, she’d have laughed too. She’d have laughed more if she thought this place had some kind of pay-per-view they could charge to the expense card.

Two weeks since their drunken tumble between the sheets and all Mary wanted was to get Marshall alone, naked, and inside of her. Somehow, she rationalized, the sex would help her forget that she was three days late and for the last week, she’d been throwing up after breakfast. No, she had a bug and Marshall would make it better. He was good at that.

Without saying a word, Marshall took the other arm of the prisoner and led him and Cooper to the assigned room. Mary followed, shouldering Marshall’s bag with her own. Cooper could come back for his own. All rookies had to learn the ropes somehow.

The room smelled like the occupants before: stale whiskey and beer, cheap cologne and aerosol hairspray; the bedspread had stains that were probably older than her sister. Groaning, Mary crashed onto the nearest bed and pulled a pillow over her head while she waited for Marshall to stop helping Cooper get settled. Time stopped mattering and she must have fallen asleep because the next thing she registered was the click of the door lock and Marshall’s weight on the bed next to her. He stretched out, his hand on her back, and she sighed as every part of her body relaxed. Instinct made her roll close to him and he hesitated only for a moment before sliding an arm completely around her.

“If sharing a room is against protocol, what about what we’re doing right now?” Her head still ached, but she felt better.

“You’re dehydrated, Mary,” was Marshall’s oddly practical response.

It was more than that. Mary ached, from head to toe, and she blamed it on her late period; the night before she started bleeding was always the worst. Truthfully, she hadn’t been right for a week or so, but the prisoner puking in the backseat had set off a chain reaction in her body. Pushing her escalating fears about what was really going on to the back of her mind, she snuggled closer to Marshall, wanting his touch more than she wanted to push him away. His hand pressed easily into her lower abdomen, warming her. Normally that move would earn him extra contact and an invitation to move those long fingers between her legs, but all she wanted was for him to hold her.

“Cooper settled in?”

“Him and his buddy. I think it was food poisoning, though with how you look, maybe there is a bug lingering around.”

“Isn’t this where you’re supposed to tell me that all viruses have a specific incubation time and if I was healthy this morning I shouldn’t be sick just because the prisoner happens to be as well.”

“There are a lot of possibilities – most notably coincidence. Also, it is more than possible that his illness upset your physiology and so you –“

“Marshall?”

“Shut up?”

“Please.”

He acquiesced and held her even while she kicked and stretched against the impending cramps – worse ones than usual. Her stomach heaved and she thought about the Midol in her bag but the concept of swallowing only made the queasiness worse. She wanted Marshall to get her naked and massage her, but being touched that closely only made her skin hurt. Tears pricked her eyes – she hated being sick – and she burrowed back under the pillows. Sleep would make it better.

She woke to the pressure of pillows around her and the warmth of the comforter around her body. The only light came from the other bed – Marshall had a small flashlight held to the page of a book. The small alarm clock on the table between the bed told her it was near eight, but it felt so much later.

“Marshall …”

He glanced up at the tiny voice that came from the other bed. When she’d fallen asleep two hours ago, he’d waited for her breathing to even out and tucked her in tight, hoping she’d ride out the migraine and burgeoning stomach flu with some sleep. But a slow fever had crept up her body and even in sleep, the natural shivering was too much for him to stand. He could handle almost anything, save for Mary not in her usual kick-ass state. Carefully, he stepped over and placed a hand to her forehead. She was burning up. “Hey,” he whispered gently, kneeling down to stroke her soft hair from her face. “You’re down for the count, Mare.” Leaning in, he kissed her tenderly, glad when she responded.

“I’ll get you sick.”

“I’ve already been exposed.” Again he stroked her hair, “You want to get undressed?”

“I’m freezing.”

“It’s better than being in your jeans.”

He knew she’d packed something comfortable to sleep in, just in case a situation like this came up, but he’d also seen the tight, nearly see through top and the satin boxers that were also thrown in her bag. Mary Shannon’s version of lingerie and it worked, God it worked. If only she weren’t sick. Cooper’s snide comments about their breaking protocol were completely worth the image of Mary in the pj’s she’d packed. Too bad the outfit would just have to wait.

“Yeah.” She sat up, pushing the covers away, and he retrieved the long sweats from her bag and a USMS sweatshirt from his. Unable to help himself, he bent to kiss her again as he pulled the t-shirt from her body and when her nipples hit the cooler air of the bedroom, puckered and waiting, he soothed them with his fingers. She shivered and reached for him and despite her fevered body, her lips were almost cool under his. Pulling back, he helped her into the sweatshirt. She collected the pants and shuffled to the bathroom herself, asking unabashed, for the tampon she had in her bag. Marshall kicked himself. He should have known she was getting ready to start; she’d been eating bananas and saltines in the morning and her coffee was laced with extra sugar. Her crankiness had been more about mood swings than her usual acerbic charm. But this case and this witness had kept him from really paying attention to what she was going through and now she was battling not only the first night of her period but the clear effects of a stomach bug that would probably have him flat on his back in a week’s time.

He made a mental note to stock up on Gatorade and saltines for himself. Only his worry for Mary let him ignore the irritating mosquito at the back of his mind, the one that buzzed around and around, reminding him that the first time they’d fallen into bed together, two weeks ago, exhausted from a case and drunk on the whiskey in his cabinet, they’d ignored the need for protection.

Mary wasn’t pregnant. She’d tell him. Wouldn’t she?

Mary emerged from the bathroom, pale despite her fever, and he caught her before her knees gave out. Into her nest of pillows and blankets and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

This was not good.

They had a witness to transport in the morning and if he read the symptoms right, Mary wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed. Picking up his phone, he ducked into the bathroom and dialed.

Stan answered on the third ring. _“What is it, Marshall?”_

The explanation was simple and to the point. If the witness was still sick, transporting him was unsafe. If Mary was sick, he wasn’t leaving her side.

 _“Okay,”_ Stan’s tired voice came across the line and Marshall knew it had been a long few days for him too. _“Do what you need to do. I’ll let the US Attorney know what’s going on when we touch base in the morning.”_

Marshall hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he hung up the phone. If Mary was healthy tomorrow, they’d go, no matter the condition of the prisoner. Knowing Mary, even if her head was cut from her body, she’d find a way to declare herself perfectly fine. She shifted in the bed, tucking the blankets closer, and he knew she’d need something to drink when she woke up. There was a 7-11 not to far away. Quietly, he slipped back into his jeans, grabbed his wallet, and headed down.

Mary woke three hours later in the same position she remembered falling asleep in. Marshall snored lightly from the other bed, the flashlight he’d been using to read glowing eerily behind him. A flopping, nervous hand lifted to rub the crust from her eyes. She needed to pee (hopefully she’d started) and carefully, she pushed herself up on her arms, but mustering the strength to swing her legs over the bed and move was another story. She’d be damned, however, if she woke Marshall to ask for help. Just because they crossed that line and become lovers didn’t mean she needed him to dote on her. She could do this. She could –

His arm slid around her waist and stabilized her. “You’ve got the flu, Mare. Not to mention your body is currently trying to leak key nutrients like iron because you haven’t done what you were designed by nature to do.”

“Marshall we can talk about my being pregnant later. Right now, I just need to pee.” Mary fell into silent fear. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. But Marshall didn’t miss a beat.

“I’ll be right outside if you need help getting back to bed.”

Despite her weak knees and thudding heart over the slip of the tongue Marshall had chosen to ignore, Mary handled what she needed to do. She found herself leaning forward against the sink after she brushed her teeth, praying that her body would just begin to bleed. She met Marshall at the door and he helped her back through the room and to her nest of pillows. “Stay with me …”

“I’m right here,” he kissed her hand, “but you’ll sleep better if you don’t have me wrapped around you.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you aren’t. And if you want to get out of this room tomorrow, you’re going to get some sleep now. Clear?”

“Clear.”

Marshall tucked the blankets around Mary, worried at the continued heat that radiated from her body.

Two weeks ago, she’d shown up at his door, exhausted and in shock from the suicide of a witness she’d poured her heart and soul into saving. What had started as toasts to those who survived turned into a messy, passionate romp in his bedroom that, miraculously, had been repeated more than once since then. The part of him that worried about everything wondered if that first, stupid night when they’d ignored all common sense, had actually led to a consequence he knew he wasn’t ready to handle. Mary was a passionate lover and he was glad they’d finally crossed the line, but he didn’t know if he could handle the high school drama of her getting pregnant from their first encounter. He wanted a child. He wanted her child. But not right now.

Right now wasn’t the time to ask her the question. But it was the time to make some decisions for himself, including what to say if she was in fact pregnant.

He sighed and wandered into the bathroom. The tampon she’d grabbed earlier sat on the tank of the toilet, still wrapped. Marshall wondered if the 7-11 had pregnancy tests. She’d know by now.

Mary was swimming. Her clothes and the sheets pressed in, wet and sticky. Her hair stuck to her neck and her face. She shivered.

The fever was broken and she was drenched in sweat.

Again, she rolled from the nest Marshall had made for her. Again, he met her as she climbed from bed. He lifted her gently, her body pressed against his, and when he lifted her legs, carrying her like a baby to the bathroom, she didn’t protest. Leaving her on the edge of the tub, he ran the water and helped her undress and gently nudged her into the water. She lay back, not protesting when he soaped up the wash cloth and ran it over her body.

“Thank you,” she whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair. “That feels good.”

“You’re welcome. The fever broke. Your temperature is almost normal.”

“How bad was it?”

“From the way you felt to the touch, around one-oh-two. You’re okay.”

“You doubted it?”

“I worried for a few minutes when you kept passing out.”

“I sweated through my sweats.”

“I saw the other pair of pjs you packed.”

“Not tonight.”

“I have an extra set.”

“I want to sleep naked. Everything hurts.” she moaned. “Just next to you all night. Is that okay?”

“Your bed is soaked from the fever breaking, so yes you can sleep next to me.” He kissed her forehead. Shivering slightly as the water cooled, Mary sat up and looped an arm around Marshall’s neck. Gently, he wrapped her in the cheap motel towel. “Let me get you something to sleep in.”

“I meant it, Marshall. I just want to sleep next to you.”

“And you’ll need to feel secure when you get under the covers. I have an extra set of pants and a t-shirt.”

Again, Mary shivered. “Thank you.” She was tired and cranky but her head was clearer. Marshall was right. After she dried off and settled in the covers, she’d want to be covered and sheltered and as much as she liked his body pressed against hers, she wanted the security of clothing. When Marshall reappeared with a pair of pj pants with some yellow creature jumping all over the dark blue background, she actually laughed. “What is that?”

“Pikachu.”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

He grinned and handed her the clothing. “I left the Klingon ones at home.”

“Now I know I don’t want to know.” She shook her head. This was Marshall and she loved it. Crazy ass jammies and all, she loved it. She loved him, but she’d be damned if she said it out loud.

“Can you handle some painkillers? You’re still squinting against the light. I bought saltines and Gatorade.”

“You’re the best.” She tugged her wet hair free and tied it in a knot on her head. “But I just want to go back to bed. My knees are wobbling.”

“Okay.” His arm wrapped back around her waist. Together, they moved back to bed. This time, Mary slept soundly.

Marshall waited for her breathing to even out and slid a hand down around her body to rest on her abdomen. Pregnant. Was it possible? Logic told him Mary would get an abortion, probably without even telling him. She didn’t want children. But the idea that they could, together, be parents left him with a bit of a thrill. She’d be such a good mother, if she let herself trust herself.

Mary rolled over in her sleep and inadvertently, his hand moved lower. Her stomach was warm to the touch and he imagined a little life growing inside her. Their little life.

He fell asleep and dreamed of a little boy with Mary’s eyes and his hair.

Marshall woke to the sounds of her puking and forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom. “Mare …” he knelt next to her, brushing her hair back.

“I’m late,” he heard her admit. “Three days. Going on four now.”

For just a moment, his heart stopped beating. “You have a lot of stress, Mary,” he tried to reassure her.

“I’m like clockwork, Marshall.”

He knew that. Just like he knew she always ate saltines and bananas the week before her period. “We’ll get a test,” he said softly, kissing the side of her head. But they stared at each other, knowing the truth already. He kissed her quickly and then stood to get her some water to rinse out her mouth. “You think you can travel today?”

“I’d rather pee on a stick at home than here.”

He let out a slow, nervous breath and handed her the water. They stared at each other again.

“Marshall…?”

They’d been partners for seven years and it was the first time he’d ever heard her completely terrified. Without missing a beat, he knelt next to her and stroked her hair back off her face. “One thing at a time. Let’s get the prisoner transferred and then we’ll go home and see what the test shows.”

“Okay.”

“And if you are …” he couldn’t say the words out loud, not yet. “We’ll talk.” She nodded, miserably, and he realized she was still sick. Not just morning sick, but battling whatever bug had taken over the night before. Adding this vocalized fear to her day only made it worse. “Why don’t you hop in the shower. I’ll check in with Cooper.”

“Yeah …”

Marshall sighed, leaving her alone in the bathroom while he dialed over to the other room to talk to the rookie. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t taken the test yet. He knew. She knew.

And he had no idea what they were going to do.

 _TBC …_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Fic: In Plain Sight - What Changes these Choices Bring**_  
 **Mini-Series:** What Changes these Choices Bring  
 **Episode One:** Bananas and Saltine Crackers  
 **Author:** [](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/profile)[**vegawriters**](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** In Plain Sight  
 **Pairing:** Mary/Marshall  
 **Rating:** Teen  
 **Timeframe:** 3rd Season  
 **A/N of Doom:** Friday night, I posted a general “I love you” post to the [](http://mary-marshall.livejournal.com/profile)[**mary_marshall**](http://mary-marshall.livejournal.com/) community and asked for prompts. The ones that rolled in were crazy awesome and so here we go. In this one, prompts from [](http://thy3tuth-iswon.livejournal.com/profile)[**thy3tuth_iswon**](http://thy3tuth-iswon.livejournal.com/) , [](http://helovesmexx.livejournal.com/profile)[**helovesmexx**](http://helovesmexx.livejournal.com/) , [](http://bend-dontbreak.livejournal.com/profile)[**bend_dontbreak**](http://bend-dontbreak.livejournal.com/) , [](http://siapom.livejournal.com/profile)[**siapom**](http://siapom.livejournal.com/) , [](http://bithablu.livejournal.com/profile)[**bithablu**](http://bithablu.livejournal.com/) , and [](http://tilley-girl.livejournal.com/profile)[**tilley_girl**](http://tilley-girl.livejournal.com/) inspired the first of a little mini-series that includes: drunk sex that leads to Mary getting pregnant and needing to make a decision, Mary being sick around the time of her period, and Raph running into them while Mary is pregnant. Included in this miniseries we see: Mary's reaction to Marshall's jammies, baby, ring, honest, puppy, and Klingon, an honest explanation as to why Mary feels comfortable watching porn with Marshall, and Marshall and Mary on the shooting range. Hey, I told you it was a mini-series! :) And it has no bearing on the other story I’ve been working on where Mary and Marshall get nekkid a lot.  
 **Disclaimer:** As evidenced by how little I’ve managed to get done this weekend: they own me.

It was hot and Mary Shannon was exhausted. She’d been exhausted for days, but today felt worse. From start to finish, the prisoner transport had been bungled: the file had been sent to the wrong office, Stan (through no real fault of his own) had given them the wrong face sheet, the prison wasn’t ready, the prisoner was sick and therefore could only handle four hours of travel before he started throwing up, the two sets of extra hands promised for the ride proved to be a newbie with too much care for protocol, and the motel they were forced to utilize halfway through their planned route was down to two rooms. Codes of conduct did not allow for prisoners to share a room with a member of a different gender. They also did not allow for two inspectors of different gender to share a room. With one woman and three men, one of whom was so green that the pages of the manual actually stuck to him, it made for a migraine the size of Texas for Mary.

“Cooper,” she kept her hand on her gun while the young marshal hauled the prisoner out of the back seat of the car, “you’re staying with him.”

“But, the motel only has two rooms available, we can’t stay. Protocol –“

“Can fuck me.” Marching back to the back of the truck, Mary hauled her duffel bag from the pile of supplies. “The health of the prisoner demands we stop and I for one don’t want the car smelling like vomit the rest of the way to Chaco. So we’re stopping and you’re staying with him and Marshall and I can act like adults and share a room.” Her only consolation in this whole mess was that she knew Marshall was doing his best to not crack up at the notion of their being “Adult” while sharing a room. If she didn’t have a headache, she’d have laughed too. She’d have laughed more if she thought this place had some kind of pay-per-view they could charge to the expense card.

Two weeks since their drunken tumble between the sheets and all Mary wanted was to get Marshall alone, naked, and inside of her. Somehow, she rationalized, the sex would help her forget that she was three days late and for the last week, she’d been throwing up after breakfast. No, she had a bug and Marshall would make it better. He was good at that.

Without saying a word, Marshall took the other arm of the prisoner and led him and Cooper to the assigned room. Mary followed, shouldering Marshall’s bag with her own. Cooper could come back for his own. All rookies had to learn the ropes somehow.

The room smelled like the occupants before: stale whiskey and beer, cheap cologne and aerosol hairspray; the bedspread had stains that were probably older than her sister. Groaning, Mary crashed onto the nearest bed and pulled a pillow over her head while she waited for Marshall to stop helping Cooper get settled. Time stopped mattering and she must have fallen asleep because the next thing she registered was the click of the door lock and Marshall’s weight on the bed next to her. He stretched out, his hand on her back, and she sighed as every part of her body relaxed. Instinct made her roll close to him and he hesitated only for a moment before sliding an arm completely around her.

“If sharing a room is against protocol, what about what we’re doing right now?” Her head still ached, but she felt better.

“You’re dehydrated, Mary,” was Marshall’s oddly practical response.

It was more than that. Mary ached, from head to toe, and she blamed it on her late period; the night before she started bleeding was always the worst. Truthfully, she hadn’t been right for a week or so, but the prisoner puking in the backseat had set off a chain reaction in her body. Pushing her escalating fears about what was really going on to the back of her mind, she snuggled closer to Marshall, wanting his touch more than she wanted to push him away. His hand pressed easily into her lower abdomen, warming her. Normally that move would earn him extra contact and an invitation to move those long fingers between her legs, but all she wanted was for him to hold her.

“Cooper settled in?”

“Him and his buddy. I think it was food poisoning, though with how you look, maybe there is a bug lingering around.”

“Isn’t this where you’re supposed to tell me that all viruses have a specific incubation time and if I was healthy this morning I shouldn’t be sick just because the prisoner happens to be as well.”

“There are a lot of possibilities – most notably coincidence. Also, it is more than possible that his illness upset your physiology and so you –“

“Marshall?”

“Shut up?”

“Please.”

He acquiesced and held her even while she kicked and stretched against the impending cramps – worse ones than usual. Her stomach heaved and she thought about the Midol in her bag but the concept of swallowing only made the queasiness worse. She wanted Marshall to get her naked and massage her, but being touched that closely only made her skin hurt. Tears pricked her eyes – she hated being sick – and she burrowed back under the pillows. Sleep would make it better.

She woke to the pressure of pillows around her and the warmth of the comforter around her body. The only light came from the other bed – Marshall had a small flashlight held to the page of a book. The small alarm clock on the table between the bed told her it was near eight, but it felt so much later.

“Marshall …”

He glanced up at the tiny voice that came from the other bed. When she’d fallen asleep two hours ago, he’d waited for her breathing to even out and tucked her in tight, hoping she’d ride out the migraine and burgeoning stomach flu with some sleep. But a slow fever had crept up her body and even in sleep, the natural shivering was too much for him to stand. He could handle almost anything, save for Mary not in her usual kick-ass state. Carefully, he stepped over and placed a hand to her forehead. She was burning up. “Hey,” he whispered gently, kneeling down to stroke her soft hair from her face. “You’re down for the count, Mare.” Leaning in, he kissed her tenderly, glad when she responded.

“I’ll get you sick.”

“I’ve already been exposed.” Again he stroked her hair, “You want to get undressed?”

“I’m freezing.”

“It’s better than being in your jeans.”

He knew she’d packed something comfortable to sleep in, just in case a situation like this came up, but he’d also seen the tight, nearly see through top and the satin boxers that were also thrown in her bag. Mary Shannon’s version of lingerie and it worked, God it worked. If only she weren’t sick. Cooper’s snide comments about their breaking protocol were completely worth the image of Mary in the pj’s she’d packed. Too bad the outfit would just have to wait.

“Yeah.” She sat up, pushing the covers away, and he retrieved the long sweats from her bag and a USMS sweatshirt from his. Unable to help himself, he bent to kiss her again as he pulled the t-shirt from her body and when her nipples hit the cooler air of the bedroom, puckered and waiting, he soothed them with his fingers. She shivered and reached for him and despite her fevered body, her lips were almost cool under his. Pulling back, he helped her into the sweatshirt. She collected the pants and shuffled to the bathroom herself, asking unabashed, for the tampon she had in her bag. Marshall kicked himself. He should have known she was getting ready to start; she’d been eating bananas and saltines in the morning and her coffee was laced with extra sugar. Her crankiness had been more about mood swings than her usual acerbic charm. But this case and this witness had kept him from really paying attention to what she was going through and now she was battling not only the first night of her period but the clear effects of a stomach bug that would probably have him flat on his back in a week’s time.

He made a mental note to stock up on Gatorade and saltines for himself. Only his worry for Mary let him ignore the irritating mosquito at the back of his mind, the one that buzzed around and around, reminding him that the first time they’d fallen into bed together, two weeks ago, exhausted from a case and drunk on the whiskey in his cabinet, they’d ignored the need for protection.

Mary wasn’t pregnant. She’d tell him. Wouldn’t she?

Mary emerged from the bathroom, pale despite her fever, and he caught her before her knees gave out. Into her nest of pillows and blankets and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

This was not good.

They had a witness to transport in the morning and if he read the symptoms right, Mary wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed. Picking up his phone, he ducked into the bathroom and dialed.

Stan answered on the third ring. _“What is it, Marshall?”_

The explanation was simple and to the point. If the witness was still sick, transporting him was unsafe. If Mary was sick, he wasn’t leaving her side.

 _“Okay,”_ Stan’s tired voice came across the line and Marshall knew it had been a long few days for him too. _“Do what you need to do. I’ll let the US Attorney know what’s going on when we touch base in the morning.”_

Marshall hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he hung up the phone. If Mary was healthy tomorrow, they’d go, no matter the condition of the prisoner. Knowing Mary, even if her head was cut from her body, she’d find a way to declare herself perfectly fine. She shifted in the bed, tucking the blankets closer, and he knew she’d need something to drink when she woke up. There was a 7-11 not to far away. Quietly, he slipped back into his jeans, grabbed his wallet, and headed down.

Mary woke three hours later in the same position she remembered falling asleep in. Marshall snored lightly from the other bed, the flashlight he’d been using to read glowing eerily behind him. A flopping, nervous hand lifted to rub the crust from her eyes. She needed to pee (hopefully she’d started) and carefully, she pushed herself up on her arms, but mustering the strength to swing her legs over the bed and move was another story. She’d be damned, however, if she woke Marshall to ask for help. Just because they crossed that line and become lovers didn’t mean she needed him to dote on her. She could do this. She could –

His arm slid around her waist and stabilized her. “You’ve got the flu, Mare. Not to mention your body is currently trying to leak key nutrients like iron because you haven’t done what you were designed by nature to do.”

“Marshall we can talk about my being pregnant later. Right now, I just need to pee.” Mary fell into silent fear. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. But Marshall didn’t miss a beat.

“I’ll be right outside if you need help getting back to bed.”

Despite her weak knees and thudding heart over the slip of the tongue Marshall had chosen to ignore, Mary handled what she needed to do. She found herself leaning forward against the sink after she brushed her teeth, praying that her body would just begin to bleed. She met Marshall at the door and he helped her back through the room and to her nest of pillows. “Stay with me …”

“I’m right here,” he kissed her hand, “but you’ll sleep better if you don’t have me wrapped around you.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you aren’t. And if you want to get out of this room tomorrow, you’re going to get some sleep now. Clear?”

“Clear.”

Marshall tucked the blankets around Mary, worried at the continued heat that radiated from her body.

Two weeks ago, she’d shown up at his door, exhausted and in shock from the suicide of a witness she’d poured her heart and soul into saving. What had started as toasts to those who survived turned into a messy, passionate romp in his bedroom that, miraculously, had been repeated more than once since then. The part of him that worried about everything wondered if that first, stupid night when they’d ignored all common sense, had actually led to a consequence he knew he wasn’t ready to handle. Mary was a passionate lover and he was glad they’d finally crossed the line, but he didn’t know if he could handle the high school drama of her getting pregnant from their first encounter. He wanted a child. He wanted her child. But not right now.

Right now wasn’t the time to ask her the question. But it was the time to make some decisions for himself, including what to say if she was in fact pregnant.

He sighed and wandered into the bathroom. The tampon she’d grabbed earlier sat on the tank of the toilet, still wrapped. Marshall wondered if the 7-11 had pregnancy tests. She’d know by now.

Mary was swimming. Her clothes and the sheets pressed in, wet and sticky. Her hair stuck to her neck and her face. She shivered.

The fever was broken and she was drenched in sweat.

Again, she rolled from the nest Marshall had made for her. Again, he met her as she climbed from bed. He lifted her gently, her body pressed against his, and when he lifted her legs, carrying her like a baby to the bathroom, she didn’t protest. Leaving her on the edge of the tub, he ran the water and helped her undress and gently nudged her into the water. She lay back, not protesting when he soaped up the wash cloth and ran it over her body.

“Thank you,” she whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair. “That feels good.”

“You’re welcome. The fever broke. Your temperature is almost normal.”

“How bad was it?”

“From the way you felt to the touch, around one-oh-two. You’re okay.”

“You doubted it?”

“I worried for a few minutes when you kept passing out.”

“I sweated through my sweats.”

“I saw the other pair of pjs you packed.”

“Not tonight.”

“I have an extra set.”

“I want to sleep naked. Everything hurts.” she moaned. “Just next to you all night. Is that okay?”

“Your bed is soaked from the fever breaking, so yes you can sleep next to me.” He kissed her forehead. Shivering slightly as the water cooled, Mary sat up and looped an arm around Marshall’s neck. Gently, he wrapped her in the cheap motel towel. “Let me get you something to sleep in.”

“I meant it, Marshall. I just want to sleep next to you.”

“And you’ll need to feel secure when you get under the covers. I have an extra set of pants and a t-shirt.”

Again, Mary shivered. “Thank you.” She was tired and cranky but her head was clearer. Marshall was right. After she dried off and settled in the covers, she’d want to be covered and sheltered and as much as she liked his body pressed against hers, she wanted the security of clothing. When Marshall reappeared with a pair of pj pants with some yellow creature jumping all over the dark blue background, she actually laughed. “What is that?”

“Pikachu.”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

He grinned and handed her the clothing. “I left the Klingon ones at home.”

“Now I know I don’t want to know.” She shook her head. This was Marshall and she loved it. Crazy ass jammies and all, she loved it. She loved him, but she’d be damned if she said it out loud.

“Can you handle some painkillers? You’re still squinting against the light. I bought saltines and Gatorade.”

“You’re the best.” She tugged her wet hair free and tied it in a knot on her head. “But I just want to go back to bed. My knees are wobbling.”

“Okay.” His arm wrapped back around her waist. Together, they moved back to bed. This time, Mary slept soundly.

Marshall waited for her breathing to even out and slid a hand down around her body to rest on her abdomen. Pregnant. Was it possible? Logic told him Mary would get an abortion, probably without even telling him. She didn’t want children. But the idea that they could, together, be parents left him with a bit of a thrill. She’d be such a good mother, if she let herself trust herself.

Mary rolled over in her sleep and inadvertently, his hand moved lower. Her stomach was warm to the touch and he imagined a little life growing inside her. Their little life.

He fell asleep and dreamed of a little boy with Mary’s eyes and his hair.

Marshall woke to the sounds of her puking and forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom. “Mare …” he knelt next to her, brushing her hair back.

“I’m late,” he heard her admit. “Three days. Going on four now.”

For just a moment, his heart stopped beating. “You have a lot of stress, Mary,” he tried to reassure her.

“I’m like clockwork, Marshall.”

He knew that. Just like he knew she always ate saltines and bananas the week before her period. “We’ll get a test,” he said softly, kissing the side of her head. But they stared at each other, knowing the truth already. He kissed her quickly and then stood to get her some water to rinse out her mouth. “You think you can travel today?”

“I’d rather pee on a stick at home than here.”

He let out a slow, nervous breath and handed her the water. They stared at each other again.

“Marshall…?”

They’d been partners for seven years and it was the first time he’d ever heard her completely terrified. Without missing a beat, he knelt next to her and stroked her hair back off her face. “One thing at a time. Let’s get the prisoner transferred and then we’ll go home and see what the test shows.”

“Okay.”

“And if you are …” he couldn’t say the words out loud, not yet. “We’ll talk.” She nodded, miserably, and he realized she was still sick. Not just morning sick, but battling whatever bug had taken over the night before. Adding this vocalized fear to her day only made it worse. “Why don’t you hop in the shower. I’ll check in with Cooper.”

“Yeah …”

Marshall sighed, leaving her alone in the bathroom while he dialed over to the other room to talk to the rookie. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t taken the test yet. He knew. She knew.

And he had no idea what they were going to do.

 _TBC …_


	3. </b> Reality

_**Fic - In Plain Sight: What Changes These Choices Bring (Reality)**_  
 **Mini-Series:** What Changes These Choices Bring  
 **Title:** Reality  
 **Author:** [](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/profile)[**vegawriters**](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** In Plain Sight  
 **Pairing:** Mary/Marshall  
 **Rating:** Mature-ish  
 **Timeframe:** Post ~~Daddy!Marshall~~ _Son of Mann_  
 **A/N:** I wanted to do a post ep that fell into the Patience universe, wherein Marshall’s father realizes what is going on between Mary and Marshall and has to make the decision about calling him on it or not. I think that story is still coming. But instead, I give you this extra ep inspired by the [prompt fics](http://community.livejournal.com/vega_voices/tag/miniseries:%20choices) I’ve been working on. See the A/Ns in the other stories for further details. And the Mets beat the Yanks last night. THAT's a fic-in-waiting ...  
 **Disclaimer:** Owned by David Maples, USA, and TPTB, not me. In fact, I think Mary and Marshall might actually have bought my soul for a Twinkie.

Marshall stared for a long, long time at the piece of art his father had been carrying around for 37 years. Suddenly, he had questions he needed to ask; how had his father felt when his mother was pregnant? Had they been ready? Had he woken every day and thanked God for the miracle in his life? Had he been terrified?

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

Marshall continued to finger the picture in his hands. “I wasn’t completely honest when I told you I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

Seth snorted. “I had a feeling.”

Marshall couldn’t look away from the crude image in front of him – the little boy so proud of his marshal father. He remembered that little boy, the one who, while running around and playing cowboy in the backyard, had decided he wanted to be just like daddy. “Dad, Mary’s pregnant.” Silence. Marshall waited, not daring to glance up and into the eyes he’d inherited, and vowed to not find himself in this tense moment with _his_ son. The lines of communication would stay open.

“How far along is she?”

A slow breath escaped his lungs. Marshall knew he’d eventually have to explain why he broke protocol with his partner and answer if he loved her and if they were going to get married but right now, it was simple. “We think seven weeks.” Seven weeks exactly, Marshall knew, since he and Mary had gone for Sake and sushi and fallen drunkenly into his bed.

“How’s she doing?”

“Okay. The morning sickness is kicking her ass.” Marshall glanced back over his shoulder; Mary was on her phone. “But she’s okay. Her first appointment is next week.”

“Your mother puked for nine months with you,” Seth chuckled softly. “Swore I’d never touch her again.”

“Mary made that vow last night.” Marshall chuckled. The nervousness settled into the pit of his stomach, becoming a part of him. Now, his father had one more thing to judge him on. One more thing to make him measure up to. So he waited, unsure where to take the conversation.

“I take it your boss doesn’t know.”

“We’re going to tell him after Mary’s first appointment. We just wanted another week working together.” Mary’s suggestion had been to say she didn’t know who the father was, but they both knew that was hopeless. Stan wasn’t stupid and once it was out in the open, Marshall had no intention of hiding it.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Does she love you?”

“Yes.” Even though she hadn’t said it, he knew it.

“I’m guessing this wasn’t a planned occurrence.”

His father didn’t need to know that Mary’s pregnancy was a result of an unplanned, drunken night. Eventually, maybe. But not yet. “No.”

“You going to marry her?”

Marshall couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that. “Dad, it isn’t 1968. We haven’t even talked about marriage yet. We’re trying to adjust to what’s happening right now.”

Seth grew quiet again. Marshall stared at the picture in his hands. “You hold onto him, Marshall,” his father’s voice was soft and sad. “Don’t let him get away from you.”

Marshall blinked and finally looked at his father. For the first time in his life, he truly saw his father, the man, not the cowboy marshal who swept in like a hero and left broken hearts behind. He saw the man trying to provide for his family, trying to love his wife, and trying to connect to a son he didn’t understand. He handed back the drawing. Seth took it and slipped it right back where it belonged. “It was good working with you, Dad.” Surprising even himself, he meant it.

“You too, Son.” Seth smiled, “And Mary. She’s a good woman and a good marshal.”

“Yes,” Marshall looked again. Mary was off the phone and buried in paperwork and pretending to not stare at the two of them. He grinned and motioned her inside. “She is.”

***  
Marshall had to say one thing: pregnancy hadn’t slowed Mary down. Once she finished puking her guts out in the morning, she was fine, if a little tired. He’d discovered bananas and vitamin water were almost a substitute for her coffee addiction and even though she griped about the lack of caffeine, he knew she appreciated that he’d also chosen to give up his complicated coffee beverages. As long as she couldn’t drink it, he wouldn’t either.

So when he wandered into the kitchen, still damp from his morning shower, and was assaulted with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee, he frowned, confused. “You’re going to need it,” was all she said before taking her own seat at his kitchen table and sipping at the sweetly flavored water he now kept stocked in his fridge. She was a fan of the citrus ones.

“Thanks.” He did need it. The stress of his father being in town was only topped when he wrangled with the potential disaster of telling Stan about the baby. That was happening this afternoon; after Mary’s appointment. Mary had taken part of the morning off and Stan thought Marshall had a meeting. The minute Stan found out, Mary would be partnered with Andra Thompson and Marshall would take over the training teams. He knew this.

He’d snooped in Stan’s files one day and found the file labeled: “When Mary and Marshall finally start sleeping together.” No code name on the file, no acronym. Just, “When Mary and Marshall finally start sleeping together.” It made him laugh but wonder if Stan already knew.

“It’s going to be a long day,” Mary glanced up over the paper and Marshall pushed a package of crackers her way. She looked a little green. “I mean … it’s not like we can hide it much longer. I’m already spilling out of most of my bras.”

It was true. Mary’s body hadn’t changed much, but her breasts had already started adapting. Marshall loved it. And despite the grumbling tone in Mary’s voice, he knew she’d accepted the pregnancy and was even not hating it. For Mary, fear trumped all. Eventually, she’d come to terms with it and let her excitement shine through. This comment was a first step.

Mary put her head in her hands and Marshall waited for the rant and the nerves to take over. It was still a weekly string of curses and fears, voiced out loud, directed at no one but herself for the mistake they’d made. She didn’t regret the sex, he knew. She regretted being too drunk to remember to use a condom. Having a baby now was just not in her life plan and she didn’t want to have an abortion, but he also knew how scared she really was.

“Mary …” She glanced up and he winced at the pain and fear in her eyes. Almost eight weeks in and she still hadn’t really come to terms with how her life was changing. “Come here.” She did, curling into his lap, and Marshall held her tightly. “I’m scared too,” he reminded her. “Every time we go out into the field, all I can think about is you and the baby. Every time we get close to telling Stan, I remember that once we do, you won’t have my back anymore.”

“I’ve always got your back,” Mary nuzzled his neck. “Always.”

He kissed her, gently, tasting vitamin water and the faint hint of tooth paste. His hand spread slowly over her abdomen, protectively. He loved her and somewhere under the fear and the hurt and the changes in her body, he knew Mary loved him too.

***

  
It was the heartbeat that made it real. She’d been throwing up for weeks, dealt with her ever expanding cup size, even Brandi’s all-knowing smirking, and it still wasn’t real. Not until she heard the heartbeat echoing in the room. Marshall’s fingers gripped hers and she looked, finally, glancing at the screen. The lima bean inside her body was growing even as they sat there, watching it.

“Wow.”

Marshall quirked a smile in her direction, knowingly, and she ignored him. Finally, this made sense. What had been a drunken mistake was something concrete and real. And she was okay with it. Offering him a smile, Mary sat up a bit, and took the kiss Marshall pressed to her lips. She’d always sworn she’d never simply stay with a man because he got her pregnant, but this felt right.

“Everything looks good, Mary,” the doctor offered her own smile and then wiped Mary’s stomach with a moist towel. Mary sat up, smoothing down her shirt and buttoning her pants – which were just a little tight to be perfectly comfortable. “So,” Doctor Madison Levine glanced down at Mary’s history. “You’re active, healthy. Your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s probably due to the nature of your job. I’m going to keep an eye on that.”

“Okay. How …” Mary chewed her lip, “is this going to change …”

“You’re still wondering if you can kick down doors and tell criminals to shut the hell up?”

“Yes.”

“For a while. Pretty soon you won’t have any fun chasing after the criminals, but the baby won’t be in any danger from that kind of physical activity until the third trimester. If you’re still chasing perps down at seven months, I want it on video.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Marshall muttered.

“Obviously, getting shot or kicked in the abdomen isn’t the best thing for you or the baby, so you might want to think about desk duty.” She pulled a prescription pad out of her pocket. “I want you to get started on a course of neo-natal vitamins today. You’ve already cut out the caffeine?”

Mary glared at Marshall. “Yes.”

“All right. Make sure you start to whittle down your eighteen hour days. Listen to your body. And I will see you back here in two weeks to check your blood pressure, so try to relax a bit, okay?”

Shocked, Mary nodded. Suddenly, she realized, her life was no longer her own. Again, she chewed her lip and ran her hand along her stomach. Welcome to the family. You are so not following your parents’ line of work. Please for the love of God, be a writer or an artist or a basketball player. Don’t give your life over to chasing the worst of society.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.” Dr. Levine handed over a pile of literature, the information on the neo-natal vitamins, and a printout of the ultrasound. Mary stared at it – the little lima bean.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Marshall nodded as Levine made her way out of the room. Mary kept her eyes on the printout. After the door closed, Marshall helped her off the table. “You ready for this?”

Mary nodded, surprised at her reaction. “Yes, actually.” She was. “Let’s go tell Stan.” When Marshall kissed her, Mary responded with a smile.

***

  
The office was silent. Marshall kept his fingers linked with Mary’s, waiting for Stan’s reaction, ignoring the stares of their fellow marshals through the glass windows. Stan kept his back turned and both he and Mary knew, for once, to keep quiet.

Finally, Stan’s shoulders slumped and he let out a long, slow breath. He turned, his gaze focused on Mary, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” She shrugged. “Still adjusting.”

His gaze shifted and Marshall squirmed. It wasn’t his own father he needed to worry about, it was the man who considered himself the father Mary never had. “Marshall …”

“Stan.”

Again, another long breath. Stan settled at his desk and pulled a folder from the drawer. “I won’t pretend this is a surprise. You two have always had a chemistry that made the bosses in DC nervous. But you’re good, so separating you wasn’t even a factor. But now it’s policy.”

“We know, Sir.” Mary sounded tired. Marshall squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“All right, effective immediately, Marshall, you will take over the training of all new recruits in addition to managing your caseload. You will keep your position as second in command of the unit, but you will not supervise Mary. Mary, you’ll be paired with Andra until you go on maternity leave and when you return, we will reevaluate.”

Marshall nodded. Mary tensed. But she didn’t argue. Both of them knew that Stan had every right to completely remove them from the witsec team.

Again, silence in the office. They stared at each other. Finally, Stan broke into a grin and came around the side of the desk. Mary rose and accepted his embrace. “Are you happy, Mary?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Marshall let out a breath of his own as Stan turned and shook his hand. “You take care of them,” he ordered. Mary snorted. Marshall laughed.

“I’ll try. But she’s a pill even when she’s not pregnant.”

Stan laughed. “So … you two … have you had an ultrasound yet?”

Mary smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. “This morning.”

“Can I see?” Stan bounced on the tips of his toes. Marshall produced the grainy photograph and shared a smile with Mary. “Wow. Look at the little guy. I suppose we’d better get a mini badge and flak jacket ordered.”

“Over my dead body,” Mary rolled her eyes. “Well, maybe a badge.”

Marshall snorted. “I was wondering about body armor coming in maternity sizes.” When Mary pushed him, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

It was going to be okay. They were going to be okay.

***

  
Marshall collapsed and chuckled as Mary wound her arms around him. He was the post-coital snuggler. He liked to nibble at her neck while still inside of her and keep her wound up for at least one more round but when he was done, he was done and holding her, knowing she was his and in his arms, always let him sleep just a little bit better. Mary sighed and shifted and he rolled off of her, carefully. With a chuckle, he placed a kiss to her abdomen.

“What are you doing, doofus?” The laugh was evident in her voice.

“I’m saying good night to the baby.” He kissed her again. “You’ve got just the barest hint of a bump here, Mare. He’s right here.”

“You’re sure it’s a boy, hmm?”

“Wouldn’t be a Mann if it wasn’t. We have a long history of having the boys come first.” He made his way up her body and relaxed next to her.

“You’re underestimating the blood of the Shannon women.”

“No, I’m not,” Marshall said with a chuckle. “But I’m placing good money on it being a boy.”

“Don’t tell me there’s a pool going already.”

Marshall smirked. “Of course there is. There’s also a pool on how long until you kill Andra.”

“Oh, that won’t be long.” Mary rolled her eyes. “The woman smacks gum and plays the Beach Boys in the car. She spent our entire time together today detailing how she prefers to do things with the witnesses and how excessive force isn’t in the playbook.”

“She has yet to see you in action is all.” Marshall bent and kissed her neck. “Get some sleep, Mary. You need it.”

She snorted but snuggled into his arms, her body already easing into the comfort of slumber. Marshall laid awake as she drifted, his arms around her, his mind on the image from the ultrasound.

It was real now.

He was a father.

And he was completely terrified.


	4. </b> Ready or Not

_**Fic: In Plain Sight - What Changes These Choices Bring (4/4)**_  
 **Mini-Series:** [What Changes These Choices Bring](http://community.livejournal.com/vega_voices/tag/miniseries:%20choices)  
 **Title:** Ready or Not  
 **Author:** [](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/profile)[**vegawriters**](http://vegawriters.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** In Plain Sight  
 **Pairing:** Mary/Marshall  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **A/N:** The last in this series inspired by the prompt fics I’ve been working on. See the A/Ns in the other stories for further details.  
 **Disclaimer:** Owned by David Maples, USA, and TPTB, not me. In fact, I think Mary and Marshall might actually have bought my soul for a Twinkie.

At four months, Mary abandoned all hope when the last of her jeans no longer fastened properly. She wiggled into a pair of pants that had always been too big, and made a note in her blackberry to finally go shopping. A baggy low neck short hung to her hips, and in the mirror she looked only like she’d gained some weight, despite the cup change in her boobs and the slight rounding of her hips.

If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could feel the lima bean doing acrobatics off her internal organs.

Vitamin water and a banana. She was so tired of the combination but it was all she could keep down in the mornings. Lunches were cravings of all different foods – lately it had been as spicy as she could stand it – but by dinner all she wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep.

“Morning!” Brandi’s cheerful voice grated on her and Mary did her best to not snap. The pregnancy was an unspoken understanding between the sisters – Mary had yet to confess and Brandi didn’t say anything. But Mary noticed the saltines never ran dry. She appreciated it.

“Hi … Squish …” she stared at the note in her blackberry and then turned to her younger sister and made a decision. “You busy tonight?”

“Not really, why?”

“I …” Mary ran her hand over her stomach, “I need someone to go with me to buy some new clothes.”

The squeal that left Brandi’s body could have cut glass. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around her and giggled. “Are you finally coming clean because really not telling mom is getting to be a pain. Oh my god, Mary! Does Raphael know? He can’t because –“

For such a bright girl, Mary, realized, Brandi was an idiot. “It’s not Raphael’s.” Mary swallowed her nervousness. “Marshall hasn’t been hanging around here for his health, Brandi.”

“Marshall? Wait, your partner Marshall? The one you swore you weren’t sleeping with for the three years you and Raph were together? That Marshall? What, you two get drunk and just get it over with one night?”

“Yes, actually.”

Brandi sat back down, hard, staring at her. Mary focused on her vitamin water. “Oh my god,” Brandi’s voice was conflicted, “Mary … you …”

“Look,” she sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder, “Look. Marshall and I went out and got drunk and we had sex and now I’m pregnant. We’re still having sex, if you’re curious. We didn’t plan it this way, but it is what it is.”

“Oh my God. Mary …” Brandi repeated. “You must be … does Raph know?”

“No. And my body stopped being any of his concern once we stopped sleeping together.” She rubbed her neck tiredly. “Brandi, my life has been nothing but a constant string of change since … this. I’m just …”

“Hey.” Brandi was up again and this time the hug was tight and reassuring. “You’re going to be okay and it’s not like Marshall found out and left you, which is what most guys would do after just one night. And we’ll totally go shopping and get you some stuff that will grow with you. Maternity clothes are so pretty now.”

“I don’t need pretty, I need practical.”

Brandi rolled her eyes. “I know, I know.”

Mary clipped on her gun and badge. “I’ll call you when I get off work.”

“When are you going to tell mom?”

“I don’t know yet, Squish. I just …”

Marshall knocked on the door and poked his head in. “Hey. Ready?”

“Yeah.” She iced a look at Brandi and then grabbed her bag. “Let’s get going.”

Marshall chuckled and slipped his hand onto the small of her back. “What was that look about?”

It was their times alone that still brought Mary the peace she needed. The only thing that had changed between them was that they didn’t work together anymore. Their desks were still across from each other and he still did half of her threat assessments and sat in on her MOU’s with new witnesses. Most nights he was with her, unless work ran late for either of them, but he made sure she was home by eight, even if it meant throwing her out of the office himself. “I told Brandi this morning. I didn’t want her grilling you.”

Again, that low chuckle of Marshall’s and she sighed as he unlocked the SUV. “I can handle your sister.”

“Let’s do it when your son isn’t making me sick.”

“So today it’s a boy?”

“Mornings I feel great, it’s a girl and she’s my daughter. Mornings I feel like shit, he’s all yours.”

Again, Marshall laughed and again, Mary reveled in the peace of the moment. This she could handle. She ran her hand over her abdomen, a habit she’d adopted, and swore she felt the lima bean leaping off her organs again. After pulling into traffic, Marshall linked his fingers with hers. “Sorry I couldn’t make it over last night but we were on the falcon until almost eleven.”

“I hate that I can’t go. I could use the adrenaline rush of kicking a few doors down.”

“And I don’t need the heart attack. Really. It got brutal last night.”

“You okay?”

“I am. Others have some nasty bumps and bruises.”

Mary sighed. “Again …”

“Don’t even. Last thing you need is to get kicked in the stomach. After the cramps you’ve been having you’re lucky I don’t demand that Stan put you on desk duty until the baby is born.”

“I’m fine. Doc Levine said so.”

He rolled his eyes and Mary bit back her natural response. The truth was that she was lucky she wasn’t on desk duty. Her blood pressure was higher than healthy and refused to go down. She and Marshall knew all the literature back and forth about the risks of a woman her age having a baby and Mary spent many a late night surfing websites to make sure she was prepared for any inevitability.

She didn’t know if she had the strength to handle a child with special needs.

With a sigh, Mary closed her eyes and squeezed Marshall’s hand. “Are you coming to the appointment?” He hadn’t missed one yet, but the Falcon might keep him today.

“I’ll be there. I’ve already let the team know that I’m not available for anything after three.”

Mary chuckled softly and closed her eyes to keep the nauseous images of the world at bay. “You know, now that Brandi knows, I need to tell Jinx.”

“I was hoping we could avoid that little wrinkle.”

There were moments she truly loved the man. This was one. “I think she’ll notice eventually.”

Again, Marshall laughed. “You have a point.” He squeezed her hand again. Mary sighed.

“I can feel the lima bean moving, you know. When I concentrate.”

“I can’t wait …”

Mary smiled and tilted her head at him. “Did you ever think you’d be a father?”

“Well,” he returned her smile, “I envisioned getting married first, but yes. I did.”

“Marshall …”

He waited.

“I’m glad I’m pregnant. I want you to know that. Especially since it all …since it was such a surprise.” It was the first time she’d said the words and, Mary realized, she really meant them.

“Thank you.” Marshall pulled the truck to a stop and leaned over to kiss her before they moved to begin their day.

***

  
“Denver?” Unconsciously, Mary rubbed her hand over the ever dancing bulge that her abdomen had become over the two months. The bean was now the size of a volleyball and Mary had determined he was bound for a life of basketball or high jumping from the way he utilized her organs as a trampoline. “What’s in Denver?”

“A highly classified witness.”

“How is it that all those witnesses come through Denver?” Mary groaned, one eye on the itinerary before her and one eye on the threat assessment. While Stan droned on about the need to protect this specific witness, she couldn’t help but wonder how they managed to keep anyone safe when witsec rolled into town with its caravan of SUVs and black suited FBI agents. This one was requiring her, her partner, and even Marshall and two of his better team members were on the detail. “What did this guy do?”

“He ratted out a group determined to take down the government, starting with the president.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “Well, I guess he deserves something.” Slowly, Mary rose to her feet. “See you when we get back.”

“Mary …” Stan’s voice was gentle. “Be careful.”

She offered him her half smile. “I will. Anyway, you’re sending Marshall. I know it has more to do with the bean than it does the witness.”

“Hey,” Stan smirked, “the guy needs protection and Marshall’s trainees need real field time.”

Mary chuckled and headed out the door.

Denver. Fuck. She couldn’t avoid Faber forever.

***

  
When he first saw her, he spilled coffee all over his desk, all over his blotter and his files and even his phone. The scalding liquid dripped onto his lap and he jumped, upsetting papers and his cup of water and the file for the witness.

Jesus, she could have prepared him. Said something. Anything.

Had she been pregnant when he was down there six months ago?

No, she’d shared a bottle of wine with him.

Maybe she hadn’t known? He just stared at her. There she was, in a pair of black pants and a light blue top cut for comfort over her belly, her long hair up in a pony tail, her feet in flat boots instead of her usual heels. No ring on her finger, but her holster in place.

He kicked himself for even looking. She’d said she was getting out of a relationship. Maybe the baby was his.

She stood next to Marshall, talking about something. It looked as professional as they’d ever looked, but something stopped him. One of his fellow agents approached, moving them into the conference room, and he watched Marshall’s fingers graze, just barely, the small of Mary’s back.

No. Her partner? Really?

She was that clichéd?

Angry, frustrated, and feeling somehow betrayed, Mike moved down the hall. He had a job to do. He could corner her with questions later.

***

  
It might have been a figment of his imagination. They were perfectly professional during the briefing and with the witness later. They set up the transfer (by car – too risky to take any commercial airline) and planned to leave in the morning. She didn’t look at him. Faber waited.

No less than seventeen different ways to bring up the topic crossed his mind while she gathered papers and files together.

“When are you due?” Was all he could vocalize.

“Oh, about three months.” Mary flashed a tired smile and handed the files off to her partner, Andra, Faber thought her name was. Marshall hovered in the doorway, confirming every suspicion.

“I see. So this was the reason you –“

“Oh for God’s sake.” Crossing her arms over her stomach, Mary rolled her eyes at him. “You really think I wouldn’t have said, ‘Hey numbnuts, I’m pregnant back off?’ Jesus, Faber. Really, get a therapist. Or a puppy.”

Marshall snorted. Mary brushed past him and out the door. Turning to watch her go, he found Marshall in his line of sight. The tall, lanky inspector stared him down. “Look, Jackass,” Marshall hissed, “she’s ignored you, told you she isn’t interested, and is now pregnant with another man’s child. I’d suggest you get over yourself.”

“I suppose it’s time to offer congratulations to the two of you then.”

Marshall just nodded and stalked away.

Mike sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Really, he couldn’t win.

***

  
Mary groaned, leaning against wall while Marshall singlehandedly kept the independent store in business. Books and books of delightful, colorful images, all meant to entice the young mind that within the next two weeks would be keeping them up all night.

Andrew James Mann. It had a nice ring to it.

Her mind still reeled. Nine months ago she’d been puking her guts out in a cheap motel room, terrified at the prospect that her life was completely turned upside down and now she couldn’t imagine anything but being right here, like this.

Her repeated pleas to simply strap the baby to her back and return to work had been ignored by Marshall and denied by Stan. But Marshall was also taking his allotted time as well, and that meant more than she dared say.

“You okay?” He came up next to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

“Just tired.”

“You up for stopping for lunch or do you want to get home?”

“If there’s food involved …” she smirked. Her appetite had increased considerably once the morning sickness stopped.

With a laugh, Marshall held open the door to the store and she followed him into the bright afternoon light. Despite the heat, there was a cool breeze in the air, the promise of winter, and she looked forward to long nights curled up in front of the fireplace with Marshall and the baby.

The truck beeped as Marshall unlocked it and she went to climb in when something stopped her. A voice. All too familiar.

“Mary?”

She winced.

She’d done the math. She was absolutely certain the baby was Marshall’s. But it hadn’t stopped her from panicking for a good few weeks while she tried to determine if the one-night mistake she and Raphael had made hadn’t resulted in the extra thirty pounds she was carrying.

Carefully, she turned, still leaning against the warm vehicle. Marshall came silently around the car.

“Hi, Raph.”

He just stared at her, clearly doing the math himself. She didn’t appreciate the bold look or the disgust that crossed his face, but figured he deserved his own moment of panic. “When are you due?”

She’d come to hate that question. Almost as much as she hated the idiots who thought that just because she was pregnant she wanted them to come up and feel her stomach. The only thing worse than them was the cooing, insipid voice all the women used around her, like she was nothing more than this machine meant to churn out a baby. Even her mother and Brandi did it more often than not. When had women become so stupid? There was nothing cute about being pregnant.

But Raphael had a right to know.

“In a couple of weeks. And no he’s not yours.”

Her ex flitted his eyes to Marshall and back again, his jaw setting into a line. “I see.”

“Raph …” She reached her hand out, “Don’t do it to yourself. Marshall and I got together after you and I were done.” What the hell was she doing explaining herself to the guy who was willing to sleep with her while he had some other girlfriend on the side? But for all the grief she’d given him about not wanting children, that she was now pregnant, less than a year after their breakup, he had a right to be hurt.

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Probably not.” AJ moved and she stroked where he kicked her. The feeling was soothing. “But it is what it is, Raphael.”

The trio stared at each other for a long, tense moment. Marshall quietly rubbed her back where her muscles had bunched together a month ago and had yet to unknot.

“I’m happy for you.” Raphael’s voice was tight. Soft. Aching. Mary stared at him, seeing the life they’d given up, the father he would have been, the few joys and the constant struggles, and knew they’d made the right decision. But it didn’t stop her from stepping forward and hugging him tightly.

“Thank you.”

He clung to her for a moment and she let him. Between them, AJ delivered a swift kick and Raphael chuckled. “He kicks like his mother.”

“Again,” she stepped back. “Thank you.”

Raphael held out a hand to Marshall, who took it with grace. “Take care of her,” Raphael whispered.

“I always have.”

Mary wanted to be angry at the protective words, but the truth was, Marshall was right. He’d always protected her, from the moment they met. “You ready to go? Junior is hungry.”

Marshall smiled and helped her up into the truck. She didn’t turn to watch Raphael walk away.

***

  
She stood in the doorway of what had once been Jinx’s room, decorated now with shelves of stuffed animals and books, bright posters of fantasy and fiction, and stained glass ornaments that hung in the windows, catching light and throwing it to the floors and walls. The perfect world for a child.

The bassinette had been Marshall’s, sent down from his mother, with a lovingly written note that Mary kept as close to her as the first letter from her father. May he not be a marshal. She had to agree. She actually wanted him to find something safe. The idea of a gun one day being pointed at her child made her stomach churn. Marshall felt the same way. But something told both of them that little AJ Mann was on his way to being a sixth generation marshal.

The crib was new – bought in a set with the rocking chair and the changing table. All scrub pine, polished to a shine, and inlaid with cushions decorated with Native American patterns. The Star Trek sheets in the crib had been a battle she was willing to lose.

Marshall stood on a ladder, finishing an etching onto the window – a dream catcher pattern he’d found. The paint smell had finally faded, soon to be replaced with baby powder. The nursery had been his domain; his project to prepare. Fatherhood balanced him, and his barely contained excitement as she grew ever closer to her due date only reaffirmed that they’d made the right choice.

“Pizza’s on its way.”

“I’m starting to believe that you’re having an affair with the pizza guy.” Marshall’s dry tone made her smile. “If you want sausage …”

“Funny.” Slowly, Mary moved into the room, each step heavy and careful. Three days until her due date and she was sure, absolutely sure, it could happen any moment. Her body just … felt ready. Marshall finished his project and hopped down the ladder, carefully putting his tools away.

“Let me wash my hands.”

Nodding absently, Mary let her gaze fall on the dream catcher and the sunlight outside. She stroked her stomach, feeling AJ move again, and sighed. Marshall came up behind her, pulling her into his arms, and she leaned against him, smelling his aftershave and the aloe soap he preferred.

“I love you,” he whispered, so softly they could both pretend he hadn’t said it. But she squeezed his hands where they met around her stomach and tilted her head up to kiss him.

“Me too.”

“Are we ready for this?”

“We’d better be,” Mary chuckled. “He’ll be here soon. Ready or not.”

The doorbell rang and Marshall rolled his eyes. “I’ll go pay your hot pizza guy. Go put your feet up.”

“Okay.”

Marshall ducked out of the room and Mary stood for a moment longer, watching the sun through the glass.

Yes, she realized. They were ready.

 _~fin~_


End file.
